My mother’s friend, Mrs. Rosa
As Black History Month 2025 begins, the annual acknowledgments and observances of Black history, culture, and the achievements of African Americans will once again be crammed into 28 days in February. And in as much as February 4th happens to be Mrs. Rosa Parks’ birthday, I see it as the perfect time to kick off the month-long celebration with a personal remembrance.
During my early childhood in Montgomery Alabama, it was routine on certain specified afternoons of the week for the women in our neighborhood to be scurrying around the house in a frenzy, preparing for afternoon teas and club meetings. Ladies’ clubs were quite popular and provided a social outlet for housewives after the usual prerequisite days of the normal household chores and drudgery. The lady guests would arrive, crisply and fashionably dressed from head to toe, and anxious to participate in the gracious ambiance provided by the hostess. In our home, with several of my mother, Alberta Frazier Willis’ guests also being former classmates and students at Miss Whites School for Girls, aka Montgomery Industrial School, the lively conversations invariably evolved into reminiscences of the legendary Miss Alice White and the lessons learned as young girls under her tutelage and guidance. The former classmates recalled vividly how Miss White, a Caucasian woman from New England, constantly encouraged them, imparting respect and dignity. In addition to strict academic studies, there were also mandatory courses in etiquette, comportment, grooming, and the social graces, as well as sewing. The latter of which some of the girls began learning from their own mothers but was greatly enhanced at the school in regular sewing classes. Most of the students, including my mother, became skilled seamstresses, but the acquired skill resulted in fortuitous outcomes for Mrs. Rosa when she was hired as a seamstress, first at Maxwell Field, now Maxwell Air Force Base, and years later at the Montgomery Fair Department Store in downtown Montgomery. On that fateful day, December 1, 1955, when Mrs. Rosa finished her shift and stepped away from her workstation, she walked the short distance to the bus stop, boarded the Cleveland Avenue bus, and in a singularly brave act of civil disobedience, unwittingly stepped into the pages of history.
“Civil Rights pioneer”, “Mother of the Civil Rights Movement”, “Courageous Heroine”, “Civil Rights Icon”. She did not choose any of the titles so often applied to her. In fact, over the years, she has often been quoted as saying: “No…The only tired I was — was tired of giving in…I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.” And there was a lot more to her persona than that of “the nice quiet seamstress on that bus who was tired and refused to give up her seat.” But over the years she accepted her role in history with remarkable grace and dignity and she continued to live her life advocating for racial equality. At the same time, she loved and was devoted to her family, which included her husband, Raymond, her mother, Leona, her brother, Sylvester, and his wife and children, and she maintained long and enduring friendships with childhood friends.
Incredibly, twenty years have passed since the sad news came of Mrs. Rosa’s passing. She was 92 years old and living quietly in her apartment on the East side of Detroit. Befittingly, a nationwide wave of memorial services included the reluctant heroine’s lying in state and honor in the Rotunda of the U.S. Capitol. And the honors kept on coming.
In 2013, the U.S. Postal Service jump-started Black History Month festivities with the unveiling of the first two of three Civil Rights postage stamps. The first, which commemorates the 150th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, was unveiled at the National Archives in Washington, DC, where the original Emancipation Proclamation is on display. The other two stamps featured the 1963 March on Washington, and Mrs. Rosa Parks, with a Forever stamp commemorating her 100th birthday.
The image chosen of Mrs. Rosa is from a 1950s photograph of her as she was in her early forties and was created by African-American artist Thomas Blackshear II and designed by graphic designer Derry Noyes. It is said to evoke the “quiet strength” that led to Mrs. Rosa’s courageous and historic act on that city bus in December of 1955. But for me, the image is reminiscent of Mrs. Rosa as I remember her: a very pretty and well-mannered Southern lady, modestly and neatly dressed, impeccably groomed, humble, soft-spoken, and with a ready smile for everyone she encountered. Hers is a rich legacy of personal integrity, dignity, and resistance against racial discrimination and injustice. This nation is blessed that she lived among us.
